Innocence
by E.K. Young
Summary: All things truly wicked start from innocence. (E. Hemmingway) Before Voldemort ever existed there was Tom Riddle and Calypso Delaney. Two orphans-one was ambitious and the other gifted with a rare power. They both started with innocence and they both ended because of love. [Tom/OC] [Formerly Sight]
1. Prologue - Book of Wizarding Families

Prologue – Ministry of Magic, Department of Records

**Book of Wizarding Families: Volume IV**

_**Page 254**_

_**House of Delaney**_

_**Status: Extant in female line**_

_**Common characteristics: Silver white hair and lavender eyes**_

_The Delaney family is known to be one of, if not **the** oldest family in the Wizarding World, tracing their lineage to the first sorceress, Morgana le Fey. _

_Not much is known of the House of Delaney as they were very secretive and tended to keep to themselves. It is, however, known that three of the most famous seers in history hail from this family so it would be fair to assume that foresight is a gift that is passed from generation to generation._

_Curiously enough, as of the late 1700s, the family only gave birth to females and males who married into this family tended to adopt the surname in order to keep the noble name intact. Often, the Delaney females married only second or third sons from other pure blood families; this might have been to ensure willingness to adopt the Delaney name. _

_Notable family members and their marriages:_

_Seer Morgaine Delaney __**[1798 – 1848]**__ to Pavo Delaney (born Black) _

_Seer Aoife Delaney __**[1841 – 1901] **__to Rigel Delaney (born Selwyn)_

_Seer Aislinn Delaney __**[1886 – 1927]**__ to Bartholomew Delaney (born Prewett) _

_In the early 1900s the famous seer Aislinn Delaney refused to ally with Gellert Grindelwald, which resulted in the Dark Wizard vowing to extinguish the Delaney family. The family was thought to be extinct when Deirdre Delaney, Aislinn's only daughter, and husband Barnabas Delaney (born Shafiq) were both found dead in Delaney Manor on June 31, 1927. However, further review of records reveal the existence of one Calypso Delaney, born March 13, 1927. Her location is currently unknown._


	2. Chapter 1 - Albus Dumbledore

**Chapter 1 – Albus Dumbledore**

The morning of June 30, 1927 was balmy and Mrs. Cole could tell that the day would be nice. She knew that the children would insist on playing outside and she tried to sort out which of the workers could be bothered to watch them—probably Martha, since she was the oldest. The woman, barely in her 40s, had lost her husband the year previous; after a period of mourning, she accepted the position of matron at Wool's Orphanage.

The woman sighed as she made her way to the front door to set out the empty milk bottles for the milkman, every step she took was accompanied by the bottles clinking together. When she opened the large door, though, she paused and stared at the cradle containing a baby sitting on the welcome mat. Mrs. Cole was not at all surprised by this since this happened all the time; she set the bottles aside and picked up the baby swaddled in a rich blue velvet blanket. She peered into the sleeping child's face, noting that it looked more like a doll than a baby, with wispy white hair and skin the colour of bone china with purple veins visible under the transparent surface.

Mrs. Cole noticed the small card that had been pinned to the blanket, only containing two things written in elegant script: _Calypso Delaney, March 13, 1927_. The matron was relieved that the child was, at least, named. The baby began to stir and made a quiet nose before her eyes fluttered open, revealing lavender eyes that focused on the woman's face. The child blew bubbles of spittle and laughed, causing the matron to smile—what a precious child!

The woman took the baby into the orphanage and closed the door behind her, unaware of a lavender eyed crow watching from the building across the street.

* * *

**July 20, 1938 **

Calypso had been reading in the sitting room that doubled as Mrs. Cole's office when there was a knock at the door. Annie Jones, one of the girls that worked at the orphanage, opened the door right away so the young girl didn't even bother to move from her perch on a well-worn arm chair. She also didn't bother to listen to the exchange, what did it matter to her?

"MRS. COLE!" Calypso crinkled her nose in distaste. Why couldn't Annie just climb up the stairs to get the matron instead of bellowing? With a sigh, the young girl tried to focus on her book again, ignoring what was happening in the entry way, until someone cleared their throat in her vicinity. She peered up from her book and noticed that Mrs. Cole was giving her a stern expression.

"But Mrs. Cole, I was here first!" she protested, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. The brightly dressed man standing behind the matron appeared amused, his blue eyes sparkling with merriment.

The matron sighed in exasperation and pressed her fingertips to her brow. Calypso was normally obedient, but on the rare occasion that she rebelled, a headache was sure to be on the horizon. "I don't care, Calypso. I have a visitor and I would like to use _my_ office. Go read in the Dining Hall." Mrs. Cole's voice was firm, sharp eyes narrowed into a stern glare.

"But the children won't give me pea—"

"Calypso!"

"Fine! I'm going, but I'm not happy about it!" The young girl snapped her book shut and huffily got to her feet before marching out of the room. Mrs. Cole and the strange man made room for her to get through at the door. As she was passing the man, Calypso stuck her tongue out at the man.

"Calypso!" Mrs. Cole reprimanded and the girl made a startled sound before scrambling away, in the direction of the Dining Hall. The matron sighed again, she felt like she was a hundred years old. "I am sorry about her, Mr. Dumbledore. She can be very stubborn."

The man, Dumbledore, only smiled and shook his head. "It's quite alright," he said, smiling kindly. "I knew a girl quite like her once."

"Mmm." It was a noncommittal sound and Mrs. Cole nodded her head without looking at the man's face, missing the way his eyes danced as his shoulders shook from restrained laughter. Truly, the matron was at a loss—she was torn between being appalled and laughing at the man's strange appearance. "Please, take a seat," she muttered, gesturing towards a rickety old chair sitting in front of her desk.

Dumbledore smiled as he settled into the seat, ignoring how unstable it was. "Was that Calypso Delaney?" he asked, but he already knew who he was. She looked too familiar to be anyone else.

"Yes…" the matron said as she sat herself in her chair, giving a sigh of relief at finally being able to get off her feet. "Now, what is it that I can help you with?" Mrs. Cole was only a woman in her early 50s, but running an orphanage as large as Wool's was tiring. She regarded the man with weary eyes, lips pursed—she wanted him to leave as soon as possible, there were far too many things to deal with.

"Yes, well," Dumbledore began, seemingly unaware of the matron's distaste. "I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss two of your wards, Tom Riddle and Calypso Delaney, and arrangements for their futures." He smiled kindly, knowingly. It was time that they knew where they really belonged.

* * *

Calypso had found a quiet spot in the corner of the Dining Hall and she had glared at any of the younger children who had dared to bother her. Normally, she was more willing to play with them but at that moment, she only wanted to know about what would happen to Bilbo Baggins and the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain. She had gotten to the part where they were invited into the shape-shifter Beorn's home when someone interrupted her quiet by sitting right across from her.

She peered up from the pages of her book and tilted her head at Mrs. Cole's strange visitor. "Hello," she said shortly before ducking her head to read again.

"Good afternoon, Miss Delaney." Calypso peered up again and the man was smiling at her kindly, obviously wishing to speak to her. She suppressed a sigh and closed her book, setting it aside before giving the man her full attention. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am a professor," he introduced himself when she said nothing else.

The young girl tilted her head—Albus Dumbledore was quite an odd name. "Hello, sir," she greeted politely. "I'm Calypso Delaney, though it seems that you already knew that." She grinned cheekily, lavender coloured eyes dancing.

"Ah, yes, there is a reason for thaty." Dumbledore only smiled as he rummaged around in his suit pocket before pulling out a blue leather bound book and offering it to her. Calypso wondered how it could have possibly fit in his pocket as she accepted the book. She stared at the cover where the name _Delaney_ was etched with fading gold ink, eyes wide with wonder. "That belonged to your mother."

"My mother?" the young girl whispered as she stroked the fading letters in and almost reverent way. She then swallowed audibly and opened the book to the first page. A startled noise left her lips, the book unceremoniously clattering onto the table. On the open page, the photograph of a happy family smiled and waved. "I-It's moving!" she whispered, frightened.

Dumbledore only chuckled. "Yes, I certainly hope so." He didn't seem to be surprised by this fact. Calypso knotted her eyebrows together and peered at the portrait again, examining it closely and taking in each face. The woman was lovely, with pale hair and light eyes; Calypso could see many of her own physical traits in the woman. The man had darker hair and warm eyes. Calypso touched her nose—now she knew where it came from. Lastly, she looked at the little girl standing in between the two adults; she took a sharp intake of breath, thinking that she was seeing a portrait of herself. However, beneath the portrait, it was not her name—the caption was _Aislinn Delaney, Bartholomew Delaney, and Deirdre Delaney_ _(1917) _written in an elegant script. Calypso touched the names, committing each to memory.

"Those are your grandparents and your mother," Dumbledore explained. Calypso tore her eyes away from the picture and fixed the man with a questioning gaze. He smiled and folded his hands on the table top. "You see, Calypso I went to school with your grandmother, Aislinn. She was my junior by four years, but we were friends none-the-less. She was quite clever, your grandmother. By the time she was out of school, she had been offered many positions, but she was ever only interested in one." Dumbledore paused to see if Calypso was still listening, gaze intent. "You grandmother had…certain talents and when these talents became publicly known, an evil man named Gellert Grindelwald tried to convince her to join him, but she refused, believing that her talents should only be used for the greater good. Because of this, Grindelwald vowed to end her family line for Delaney is an old and powerful name. He was a dangerous man so, your family, of course, went into hiding after this threat. Grindelwald found your grandparents shortly after your birth…" he trailed off, his expression turning sad as he thought of the death of one of his closest friends.

Calypso's gaze did not falter from the man; she was determined to hear as much about her family as she could. "And what about my parents?" he voice was quiet, breathless.

"Your parents fled, leaving everything behind to keep you safe. They even kept your existence a secret. However, it soon became evident that they couldn't keep running. She wrote to me and told me where you would be. She left you on the doorstep of this orphanage with only your name and your birthdate—the less you knew about your family, the safer you would be she thought. Grindelwald found your parents the next day, but here you are alive and well." Dumbledore smiled gently as he finished his tale without so much as a flourish and Calypso took a deep breath, letting everything he said sink in.

She had lived in Wool's Orphanage for eleven years, always wondering why her parents did not love her enough to keep her, but all this time they had left her there because they loved her all along? "But…but why couldn't you take me? Why couldn't my father's family take me?" she asked as she widened her eyes to keep the gathering tears from falling. She dug her fingers into the tabletop, her fingertips turning red with the pressure.

Dumbledore gently patted one of the girl's hands. "Because you were a well-kept secret; if anybody that knew your parents took you in, Grindelwald would have surely known and you would have been in danger. As it is, he does not know that you exist. Your parents gave you up so that you could live." He then fixed the young girl with an intense gaze that she avoided by ducking her head. "You should not spurn their choices."

"Is that why you're here? To tell me about my family?" she asked quietly, touching the moving photograph again.

"Oh, certainly that is not all!" he said cheerfully as he once again rummaged around in his pockets. "I'm certain it is here somewhere," he muttered. "Aa! Here we are." From his pocket, he drew a thick yellow parchment envelope with a purple wax seal and written on with bright green ink. Calypso accepted it and turned it over in her hands, reading the words that had been scrawled on the back:

_Ms C. Delaney_

_Wool's Orphanage_

_1 Bower Street_

_London_

_Care of: Professor Albus Dumbledore_

She turned it over again to examined the wax seal, studying coat of arms of a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle surrounding a letter H. "What is the 'H' for?" she asked curiously.

"It stands for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes glinting mischievously. "You, Miss Delaney, are a witch." Calypso's lips parted and she stared at him, eyes wide.


	3. Chapter 2 - Diagon Alley

**A/N: Thank you to Iluvyou95 for your reviews. It really encouraged me to finish this chapter, which I hope you like. By the way, the wand descriptions are from Pottermore and I just revised them to be more concise.**

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Diagon Alley**

"A witch?" Calypso's voice was stunned and Dumbledore was not surprised; finding out about her family and about being a witch were a lot to take in. She bowed her head and turned the envelope over in her hands—it made sense. She always thought that magic was real. "I…knew you were coming…" she whispered so quietly that she could barely hear herself.

"What was that my dear?"

"I knew that you were coming." She said louder before clearing her throat. "Or—or rather, I knew someone was going to come to take me away. I mean not you specifically just—just someone." She fumbled over her words, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and regarded her with a curious expression. "And how _did_ you know?"

"I had a dream about it. I—I know that sounds silly…" her voice trailed off and she eyed the envelope as if to burn a hole through it. Her lips were set in a grim line, hoping she didn't sound too mad.

"No, not at all! Really, this is very good news, very good news indeed," the Professor muttered under his breath, as if to himself. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought.

"Um…professor?" Calypso ventured cautiously, hesitant to disturb the man while he was thinking so deeply.

"Yes, my dear?"

"I—I haven't any money," she whispered, bowing her head as her pale cheeks flushed pink at the admission.

The young girl peered up curiously as Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, my dear, did you really think your family would leave you with nothing?" The man sounded quite amused by this prospect as he stroked his auburn beard. "No, no, my dear. You are, of course, the sole heir to the Delaney fortune."

"F-fortune?" The young girl's eyes were wide, stunned. The word rolled off her tongue, almost too good to be true and Dumbledore could hear the disbelieving tone of her voice.

"Why, yes! The Delaney family is quite old and powerful. Your parents left you everything." Calypso caught her breath—how many times had she day dreamed that she was the long lost daughter of royalty? Or that she would be adopted by a wealthy family? It was a very common day dream amongst orphans, she knew, but in the back of her mind she always thought that it would never happen. The times were especially hard on those who depended on the charity of others—the homeless and the orphans; nobody wanted any extra mouths to feed. "Now, about your school supplies—as I understand it, Mr. Riddle would like to go to Diagon Alley by his own devices. Perhaps he will allow you to accompany him. Or would you prefer that I accompany you?"

The young girl's pale brows knotted together in confusion. "Riddle? As in Tom Riddle?"

"Yes, Mr. Riddle will also be attending Hogwarts this coming September." Though she knew that she should have surprised it did not surprise her to hear that it was Tom who would be her school mate. Strange, unexplainable things always happened around him—especially when the other children upset him; which was often.

Riddle had been one of the smallest children up until he sprouted up, which made him the easiest target for the other orphans, but as Tom grew older more strange things happened. Calypso remembered Billy Stubbs's rabbit swinging from the rafters after he and Tom had a row. Even more prominently, the holiday at the shore when he disappeared with Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop, who had been particularly mean that day, saying cruel things about Tom's mum. When they came back, they were never the same though there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them.

"I…Professor, I think if Tom is alright with it, I'll go with him," the young girl said quietly. Dumbledore frowned, concerned—he had a bad feeling about Tom Riddle and did not know how to feel about leaving his old friend's granddaughter with a child who had questionable motives.

But the brilliant man did not want Calypso to think that there was anything slightly wrong about a boy who lived in her orphanage. "Very well…" he conceded hesitantly before pulling himself to his feet. "I will visit again after withdrawing the necessary funds from your family's bank account."

"Thank you Professor," the young girl murmured demurely which caused him to smile, knowing well that Delaney women were anything but.

"Anytime my dear, anytime," he assured as he rummaged in his pockets again, pulling out a sweet wrapped in cheerful yellow paper. "Before I leave would you like a lemon drop?"

* * *

Calypso paced in front of the closed door nervously, fidgeting with the hem of the scratchy gray sweater that Mrs. Cole made all the orphans wear. She anxiously bit her bottom lip as she crossed the corridor again. She had never spoken to Tom Riddle before, having been told to stay away from him by Elizabeth Thatcher, a 13 –year-old occupant of Wool's. Certainly, he also made it clear that he did not want anybody to come near him with the way he locked himself up in his room, reading, or the way he regarded the other children like they were inferior to him.

But you aren't inferiorl to him, Calypso Delaney! You are every bit as special as Tom Riddle, there's no need to be nervous. She scolded herself as she walked up to the door again, bringing up a pale hand to the rough wooden surface. She knocked quietly, almost hoping that either he did not hear her or that he wasn't there but he said 'come in' and it was too late to flee.

* * *

When the door to his room opened, Tom did not even bother to look up from his book. "Tom?" the voice that called his name was quiet, uncertain, even a little bit frightened. He didn't care though; they _should_ be scared of him. Especially now that he found out that he really _is_ special.

"What?" was his simple reply, uninterested in whatever the person had to say.

The sound of nervous shuffling reached his ears. "I...uh…Professor Dumbledore told me that you'd be going to Diagon Alley. I was wondering if…" At the mention of the professor, Tom peered up, a curious expression on his face as he regarded his visitor with guarded blue eyes. It was the Calypso girl—he didn't know much about her since she never came near him, but he knew that she read as much as he did. Unlike him, though, people actually _liked_ her for it.

"If you can come with me?" his voice was unintentionally cold. He didn't like her—with her white hair, pale lavender eyes, and pale porcelain doll skin she looked like an angel; the complete opposite of him. Though she should have been, by every right, considered a freak for her albino features, people adored her. He had seen the other orphans congregating around her like flies. They liked _her_ for being odd while they spurned him. But he hated her—he would not be taken in by her.

He watched as the girl averted her gaze to the worn wooden floor, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. "…yes." The girl's shoulders slumped and she looked defeated, her feet shuffling as if ready to flee. Tom narrowed his eyes—the girl thought that he would say no. He _was_ going to say no, but the thought of being predictable made him change his mind rather quickly.

"Fine," he said with finality, turning back to his book. "I'll tell you when we're going."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the girl's head shoot up to regard him with a surprised expression. "Oh!" she said breathlessly before sighing with relief. "Good. Thank you." The door creaked as she pulled it after her, but she paused. "Tom?"

"Hm?" Again he did not look up as a flipped a page.

"I can't wait to go to Hogwarts with you." This jolted the young boy and he looked up, just in time to see the girl smiling as she pulled the door closed after her.

Tom spent a few moments just staring at the door. None of the children had never been excited to go anywhere with him before. "What a strange girl…" he mumbled as he turned back to his book.

* * *

**August 14, 1938**

Calypso was annoyed.

She had only been in Madam Malkin's a moment longer than Tom, but he had left her. Her lavender eyes watched as the oddly dressed crowd streamed by, looking for a familiar head of nearly black hair, but to no avail.

The young girl sighed and sat herself down on a bench, setting her new uniform aside. Perhaps he will be back soon. She thought hopefully. But what if he forgot about me? He doesn't seem to care very much about me…her shoulders droop at the thought, but she was determined to think the best of Tom Riddle. He did, after all, allow her to accompany him to Diagon Alley.

The time passed by slowly as Calypso watched the crowed go past, still with no signs of Tom. After an hour, she decided that Tom had indeed forgotten about her and that if she did not find him, she would be stuck in the middle of London lost and alone.

She grabbed her new clothes and hugged them to her chest before cautiously stepping into the crowd of hurrying Witches and Wizards and instantly being swept away by the current at a pace faster than her short legs could manage. After a few moments of being rushed along, Calypso struggled out of the throng and stumbled out, in front of a store that seemed to sell sporting goods.

The young girl eyed the window display where robes of red, green, and yellow hung off mannequins holding onto broomsticks. She looked up at the sign: _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. Of course she didn't understand. Then, from the corner of her eyes, she was sure that she saw Tom darting into a side alley and she started, running after him, but stopping just before she stumbled down a flight of precarious stone steps.

Calypso furrowed her eyebrows and stood on her tiptoes, trying to see into the dark alley below, looking for her companion. When she could not find, she took a cautious step down the staircase and then another until she found herself at the bottom, looking around her with a feeling of unease washing over her like a wave.

The alley was dark and dank, the scent of something stale or dead lingered in the air. The buildings that lined the street were shoddy and keeled over as if they would topple at any moment to crush any passing citizens. Calypso noted that some of the windows were boarded up and the only places that were opened appeared to be less than reputable, their windows so grimy that the lights from inside could barely be seen.

The young girl was startled as someone placed their hand on her shoulder and turned her around violently. Calypso gasped when she came face-to-face with a bent old man with weathered leathery skin and milky eyes. "Albino." His voice was gravelly and breathy, as if he could not get enough air into his lungs. The man wrapped his bony fingers around her forearms so tightly that she winced. "You're an albino…" he breathed, his breath putrid as he greedily took in her face. He was quiet for a moment before frantically digging into his pockets and pulling out galleons that he frantically pushed at her. "Kidney! Give me your kidney!" he snarled like a man possessed, roughly grabbing her wrist.

"No! Please go away!" Calypso gasped out fearfully as she tried to pull away from the deranged man. The old man's hysterics began to gather notice from other people in the street and they approached the pale haired girl that they had previously ignored.

Murmurs of the word 'albino' was scattered throughout the crowd beginning to gather and close in around the poor girl who was growing more frightened with every second. Hands reached out to tug on her hair, brush her skin and pinch her arms, poking and prodding her like produce on display.

With new vigor, Calypso tried to get away, but the old man held her firmly in place. She wanted to cry and she wished that she had gone to Diagon Alley with Professor Dumbledore rather than Tom. The girl shut her eyes tight as strangers' hands continued to prod her, wishing that they would leave her alone.

A circle of fire burst around the young girl, causing the crowd to disperse to avoid being burned. She opened her eyes when she felt the heat of the flames on her face and she was stunned to find the fire keeping the strangers at bay. "Calypso." She turned at the sound of the familiar voice and released a strangled cry after realizing it was Tom. The fire vanished and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, trembling.

The young boy scowled at the crowd who were closing in on them again. Tom pried Calypso's arms from him before leading her up the stairs, out of the alley, but the old man that had accosted Calypso first stood in their way. "Just a kidney! Just one!" he begged wheezily, reaching out to place an imploring hand on the pale girl.

Calypso whimpered and hid behind Tom, who only glared darkly at the man. "Out of the way," he hissed.

"Just o—" The old man's words were cut off by a blood curdling scream as he caught on fire. Tom smirked, satisfied as he led Calypso up the stairs, going slowly in case she slipped. When they reached the open air of the main street, he helped her sit on a bench. She still trembled, hugging her new uniform close to her.

Tom stood in front of her and examined Calypso; dark finger shaped bruises were already forming around her forearms and he suddenly felt sick at the thought of someone asking her for her kidney. "Stupid girl, why did you go in there; couldn't you see that it's dangerous," he said apathetically.

Calypso's head shot up and she peered up at him with large, watery lavender eyes that suddenly flashed with disbelief. She was silent for a few moments before jumping to her feet and viciously poking his chest with a finger. "I wouldn't have gone in there if you hadn't left me for an hour! You stupid boy!" she yelled, indignant as she poked his chest with each word. She wanted nothing more than to shake him by shoulders.

Tom grimaced, feeling a bruise already forming on his pale skin from her jabs. He reached out and held on to her wrist to keep her from hurting him more. She stopped instantly, her pale cheeks flushed with her anger and her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. Calypso's shoulders slumped and it seemed she was through with being angry with him. "Can we just go get our wands? I want to go back to the orphanage," she muttered.

He examined her for a moment, to make sure she wouldn't jab him again before nodding and releasing her. He could feel excitement bubbling in his stomach—he had been waiting to get his wand ever since he had seen Professor Dumbledore using his. He turned and led the way to shop called _Ollivanders_ across the street without checking if Calypso had even followed him.

The shop bell rang when Tom opened the door and stepped into the small shop, looking round curiously. Calypso entered right behind him, her breath catching in her throat. The shop was overflowing with dusty narrow black boxes stacked up into neat towers reaching for the ceiling. Boxes were crammed into every corner: into shelves, on chairs and tables. There didn't seem to be any space free of them.

The two stood at the entrance, dumbstruck, their skin prickling with something they couldn't quite name—old magic perhaps, Tom thought. "Ah, so you have come at last," a quiet voice said from behind a shelf. A tall man with dark curling hair and pale eyes emerged from behind a shelf with a small smile on his face. In his hands he carried two of the narrow boxes as he approached Calypso and Tom.

"Tom Riddle; acacia and dragon heartstring, eleven inches and…" the man handed the boy a box and regarded him up and down, taking in the way he held himself. "…unyielding." Tom eagerly took the box and ripped the lid off before catching his breath at the beautiful wand. While he was admiring it, Ollivander turned to Calypso with a kind smile. "Ah, Calypso Delaney, you are the spitting image of your mother." The younger girl jolted—she hadn't expected to hear stories of her mother in a wand shop. "Yes, I still remember selling her a wand. I was still young then, just out of Hogwarts," he muttered. "Chestnut, thirteen inches, unicorn hair, slightly springy; it served her well."

Ollivander held the box out to Calypso who accepted it gingerly. She removed the lid with far more care than Tom did and took in her breath. "Willow, nine and a half inches, unicorn tail, swishy," the wand-maker explained. "Alright, you may try them now; hold them with your wand hand—that's it! And give it a good wave!"

When Tom waved his wand nothing happened and he felt quite silly. However, when Calypso waved her wand, some boxes came flying from the shelves and she had to duck to avoid them hitting her. "No, no, no!" exclaimed Ollivander, snatching the wands from their hands and depositing them back into their boxes. "Wrong, all wrong," he muttered as he placed the wands on a chair before disappearing behind the shelves again.

Some rummaging was heard from the back as Calypso gave Tom a frightful stare. "That was scary," she whispered. Tom did not respond, instead choosing to look ahead of him as he clenched his fists—why did that stupid girl get something to happen but not him? He seethed.

Ollivander came back with six more boxes and Calypso realized that they may take longer than she realized. "Beech, twelve inches, phoenix feather, unyielding," he said as he handed Tom a wand. "Apple, ten inches, unicorn tail, slightly springy," he said as he handed Calypso a wand. Tom waved his wand unbidden and smirked as a tower of wands came toppling over. Before Calypso could even wave her wand, the wand-maker had snatched the wands from them and set them aside.

As Calypso thought, they were indeed there for a long time. A pile of discarded wands was teetering precariously on the shop table and the young girl was getting tired. She wanted to go home. Beside her, Tom did not look pleased either—he hadn't expected that getting a fancy stick would take so long.

The two watched quietly as the wand-maker rummaged through the towers of boxes. "Ah, this should do," he muttered as he pulled a wand from a particularly high tower that did not topple over when he did so. Then he moved to the shelves behind the front desk, fingers skimming over the boxes before pausing at one. "Hm…I wonder…" He pulled the box from its place and blew the dust away before returning to his two customers.

"For you, Tom Riddle: yew, thirteen and a half inches, phoenix feather, unyielding," the wand-maker muttered as he eyed the wand. "Powerful, very powerful; yew wands are very rare, Mr. Riddle." Ollivander plucked the wand from its velvet cushion. "The ideal matches for yew wands are said to possess power over life and death and they can either be the hero or the villain…" his voice trailed off as he eyed the boy closely. He sighed and placed the wand in the boy's out stretched hand.

Tom's eyebrows rose as he felt a warmth travel up his arm. He gave the wand a little flick and, almost instantly, a stream of green sparks shot from the tip. "Ah, excellent, Mr. Riddle," Ollivander said as he handed Tom the box before turning to Calypso. "And for you, Calypso Delaney…" from another box, he plucked a beautiful silver coloured wand. "Silver lime, eleven and a half inches, unicorn hair, unyielding." The wand-maker eyed the wand and smiled softly. "This one was made by my grandfather," he murmured. "Silver lime wands, Ms. Delaney, are very unusual. When my grandfather still ran this store, silver lime wands were in high demand for, as you can see, their most attractive appearance." He held the wand out to Calypso as he muttered, almost too quietly, "Silver lime wands perform best for Seers and those skilled in Legilimency." He watched as the young girl wrapped her fingers around the wand.

She gasped as her fingers warmed, her skin prickling. Calypso gave the wand a quick wave and blue sparks shot from the end. Ollivander smiled and handed the girl the box before stepping away to eye the two orphans. "It's very curious, you know…two of the rarest wands in my shop have found their owners on this day." He smiled knowingly. "You two will do great things. Very great things. That'll be seven galleons each." Calypso stared at Tom from the corner of her eyes and saw that he was quite pleased by what the man had said. She herself was quite confused; why did she feel such a strange sense of foreboding washing over her at the wand-maker's words?

* * *

**A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please leave a review. And if you didn't please leave a review! I like to get constructive criticisms whether it's good or bad. Only meaningless flames are ignored. Reviews will also encourage me with getting the next chapter done faster and it's a really good ego boost to know that people are enjoying a story that I'm having fun writing. **

**Till next time!  
-E.K. Young**


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